


Tales from the Host

by barefootxo



Category: Angel: the Series, Casper (1995), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Looney Tunes | Merrie Melodies, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5263946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootxo/pseuds/barefootxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorne has seen many souls pass through his bar over the years but, as one might expect, the special ones tend to stick out. This is their story… A set of answers to the Andy Hallett Memorial Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sometimes When We Touch ~ Rogue's Tale

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, X-men or the song Sometimes When We Touch. The first two belong to Joss Whedon. The third to Marvel Comics. The last to Dan Hill. This ficlet and all those that follow are responses to the Andy Hallett Memorial Challenge. Each fic will feature a different fandom and a different song (in addition to the Angel & Buffy fandoms) which will be featured in a disclaimer above the chapter. All of these tales will be told by Lorne in the first person...  
  
And now, without further ado, on with the show.  
  
~~  
  
Welcome one and all to Caritas. I am the Host and I’ll be telling you all about all of the many and varied customers that have come through my little haven here. There’ve been an awful lot of them over the years and many of you probably think that old Angelcakes and his crew were the interesting ones. Certainly they’re the ones that affected my life the most, but I like to think that there were many more fascinating people walking through my door. Why just a few weeks after I managed to rebuild my precious Caritas there was this sweet girl…  
  
It was a night like any other at Caritas. I was fixing a drink for a slime demon at the bar whilst another demon proved just how evil he was by butchering Stairway to Heaven and Alphonse (my new bartender) was being a dear and fixing me a sea breeze to help me forget the utter headache that the demon on stage was working on creating for me. It was in that moment that a child came in. She could scarcely be called more than that, the poor thing looked barely out of her teenage years. Still, I’m a bit fuzzy on humans so I didn’t feel too guilty when I discovered she was actually twenty-one. She claims that even other humans have trouble telling.  
  
She’s an adorable little thing, even if she feels the need to cover up so much. I can’t help but think it’s an utter tragedy. I’ve been around humans long enough to know that she’s considered to be quite a looker, even if I don’t really feel the physical attraction myself.  
  
“What can I get you, Sugar cane?”  
  
The girl looks at me with hooded, slightly spooked eyes, and I’ve gotta wonder if she’s ever seen a demon before. As safe as I try to make my place Caritas is not a place for the uninitiated. “Just water please.”  
  
I nodded agreeably to her and paused to get another mental whiff of what that demon’s vibes are telling me. I top up a glass of water for the little human cutie and politely excuse myself. I inform the demon who has finished assaulting my ears that he’d be wise to get out of Cleveland before a slayer makes him into mincemeat. The demon in question snorts dramatically. Damn fools think they’re invincible. They come in here expecting me to go on and on about how their plots can’t possibly fail. I’ve seen his type before. He’ll ignore my warning, do his dastardly deeds and be promptly minced by a slayer. Probably Vi, this time. She’s a real spitfire, that one…  
  
But anyway, back to my new customer, that lovely little girl. Once I was done trying to save that idiot from an inevitable death I return to my newest customer. “Hey there, Peach pie, the stage is free. Why don’t you go up and give it a go?”  
  
The girl brushed back her prematurely grey streak of hair and glanced mournfully up at me. “Ah don’t feel much like singing, Sugah. Maybe some other time…”  
  
My heart went out to the little southern belle. She was already reminding me vaguely of Fred, God rest her soul. “You know, Sugar pie, singing isn’t just about the songs here. If it were then I’d like to hope that some of the ones with the more painful voices would stay home.”  
  
The girl looked mostly unimpressed, but there was a sliver of interest in her gaze now. She had to know that I had brought it up for a reason. “That so?”  
  
I nodded dramatically. “I am the Host, Peach fuzz, and that means that I can read the aura of anyone that sings on that stage. It also means that I might be able to help you on your path to wherever it is you’re going. It often helps the aimless ones to find their way.  
  
She seemed to stare through me then, as if she were evaluating my truthfulness. Finally she nodded her head and took a place on the new stage. I taught her quickly how to call for a tune and she sung a song that she’d obviously had in her mind for quite a while…  
  
“You asked me here to kiss you  
But still collapse again  
How can I find a guy to love  
If they can’t embrace the pain?  
But who am I to judge you  
In a race that none can win?  
I just can’t help but wish, that someone could touch my skin…  
  
“And sometimes when we touch  
The voices join the rush  
And I cannot keep your thoughts from my mind  
If I hold you you will die  
As will any other guy  
I wanna hold you but the risks to you are high  
  
“Romance and all its chemistry  
Are explosive at the best  
But when they are combined with me  
The reaper is your guest  
I'm just another mutant  
With a power I can’t control  
A terrified young lover  
Who cannot touch a soul  
  
“And sometimes when we touch  
Your mind reduced to mush  
And I cannot keep your thoughts from my mind  
If I hold you you will die  
As will any other guy  
I wanna hold you but the risks to you are high  
  
“My touch, it tends to break you  
And cause your heart to seize  
As your power and mind comes through  
With terrifying ease  
  
“And then I understand you  
For a moment’s eternity  
I watch your life passing through  
As I wield your ability  
  
“At times I think that I have been cursed  
To be alone ‘til the end  
But then I touch another person  
And I’m never alone again  
  
“And sometimes when we touch  
Your mind reduced to mush  
And I cannot keep your thoughts from my mind  
If I hold you you will die  
As will any other guy  
I wanna hold you but the risks to you are high”  
  
The music I recognised but the lyrics were her own, obviously created to try to convey how she truly felt. I still wonder to this day if she had those lyrics written for some other reason or if she was just that good at improv. I guess I’ll never know.  
  
Anyway, this poor girl has a tale of woe when it comes to her love-life. Ever since her first attempt at a kiss (in which she put the poor lad in a coma) she has been unable to make physical contact with another being without triggering her dangerous ability. I knew instinctively that it worked with demons too, despite her not having tried that yet.  
  
She came over to me with this almost wistful expression on her face. It really broke my heart. Luckily, I had some advice for her as I set up a lemonade for the girl. I knew she was old enough to drink by then, but I also knew she didn’t hold with alcohol. “Well Peach blossom, I’m afraid there is good news and bad. What would you like first?”  
  
“The bad…”  
  
I wasn’t surprised. The bad was always good to get out of the way. Only the odd masochist wanted the good first. I think Angel asked for it once… “I’m afraid that not one being in the world, be they male or female, human, mutant or demon, can resist your power. All of them are susceptible.”  
  
The girl’s face fell. I really felt for her, I did, but I’d be damned if I was going to get someone’s hopes up only to have them be dashed later. I never lie about my readings. “But, as I said, there is good news. It is very difficult, but with both of you working together, you and a guy who loves you enough can overcome it overtime. That power of yours is the type that someone can build up an immunity to naturally given sufficient exposure and patience. I know it’s not the quick and easy answer you wanted, Honey bunch, but it’s the best I can do.”  
  
She nodded thoughtfully. I could tell, even without reading her aura any longer, that she was remembering the so-called cure. The darn thing had turned out to be all too temporary in many cases, especially with powers as volatile as hers. The girl was smart. She wouldn’t seek out that sort of band-aid solution again. She just needed to find a better boyfriend than that two-timer Bobby.  
  
I glanced at the time and realised her destiny was about to pass her by. “I think it’s time for you to go, Peach pie. Now I want you to run out that door and not look back.”  
  
She looked incredibly hurt at first, thinking I was kicking her out, but then she caught the sincere smile on my face and dropped her money on the bar before leaving at the run. I could faintly here the slap-bang of destiny blindsiding her. The destiny I had in mind for her took the form of a watcher with a heart of gold who had come to Cleveland recently after a long stint in Africa. They said, once upon a time, that he was the heart. I’m just hoping that he can be hers as he was once theirs…  
  
~~  
  
I hope you all liked it. I've never tried Lorne before and hope I captured him to the satisfaction of all...  
  
Jasper


	2. Unforgivable ~ Draco's Tale

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Harry Potter or the song Invisible. The first two belong to Joss Whedon. The third to Joanne Rowling. The last to Clay Aiken. This ficlet and all those that follow and precede are responses to the Andy Hallett Memorial Challenge. Each fic will feature a different fandom and a different song (in addition to the Angel & Buffy fandoms) which will be featured in a disclaimer above the chapter. All of these tales will be told by Lorne in the first person...  
  
And now, back to the show.  
  
~~  
  
Back already are you? Well welcome back to Caritas. It’s good to see you back here so soon. I suppose you’re hoping to hear about another of my success stories. Well, I’m here to warn you, not all of my works have been successes. Some people just insist on being self-destructive in the end. Still would prefer one with a happy ending huh? I can’t say as I blame ya. I love a good fairy tale as much as anyone. Now let’s see… Oh yeah ! This one happened before I ever met Angel food. Wow, it was just before that blonde slayer chica was move to Sunnydale and changed everything about the rules. Come to think about it, the one in question was a blond too…  
  
It was fairly early in the night for Caritas. None of the L.A. vamp population was in yet but a vengeance demon was singing away. I still, to this day, don’t know how Elmer Fudd’s own Kill the Wabbit wound out on my jukebox, but I am utterly certain that Anyanka had some serious issues back then. Anyway, as expected, Anyanka wanted to know what her future look like. I readily informed her that a scorned cheerleader would be her downfall and her redemption together. Anyanka, of course, thought I was a quack and stormed out of Caritas in a huff. There is just no pleasing some people. How can you explain to a vengeance demon that the loss of her powers will lead her to find love and happiness? Especially when the person she will find loved was one of her ex-victims? Ah well, I call them like I see ‘em, you know?  
  
It was just as Anyanka stormed out that little Ball of sunshine walked in my door. The boy was incredibly nervous, but not uninitiated. Oh no. He was too spooked to possibly lack knowledge on what kind of patrons we get in these parts. It was kind of sad to me how he would sneer half-convincingly at my clientele about the bar. Granted not all of my clients are saints, but still, I could smell the elitism just as surely as I could smell the boy’s doubts. I couldn’t wait to get that kid on my stage. He just reeked of an interesting tale.  
  
“Can I help you there, Lemon tart?”  
  
I nearly chuckled at the cringe the boy gave at my comment. Human boys are such fun. They take such offence at my little nicknames. One might think I had offended his manhood or something. “Butterbeer?” he spoke in a soft British lilt that I would later associate with Wesley.  
  
The accent and drink choice were a big tip off to me as I had Ramone find the drink for the boy. It explained the painfully obvious pole the kid had up his ass… excuse me… arse. The boy was one of those ‘pureblood’ bigots, probably programmed from birth to believe that my kind and every other kind were inferior to his own. Still, if he had made it to Caritas in L.A., I had some hope that the boy might be fighting his programming. “Care to sing us a tune, Stud muffin?”  
  
The boy, he couldn’t have been older then sixteen, nodded uncertainly. I mentally gave myself a point as the boy reread a slip of paper before going over to the jukebox to make a selection. The boy had known exactly what he was doing when he came to my door. I can only hope that this experience might further loosen the pole. The boy took a while, obviously uncertain with the technology, but most of my clientele weren’t in yet. When he started I was shocked by his sweet voice. Boy obviously had taken some singing lessons. Maybe those bigots aren’t all bad after all…  
  
“What, is with all this light?  
I wish I could hear, the Death Eater call  
Is, it really so bad  
To hate Muggleborns  
Why can't I bring myself to do it?  
What would it take to turn me from the light?  
  
“If it was forgivable  
I could kill you with just two words  
If it was forgivable  
I could torture blood traitors  
If it was forgivable  
I could just curse you where you stand  
You would be at my command  
If it was forgivable   
(But, it’s unforgivable)  
  
“See, my face in your dreams  
I call out your name  
You’re not what you seem  
I control all your moves  
Each step that you take  
With but a word, I control the contours of your mind  
With that same word, I change the way you live your life  
  
“If it was forgivable  
I could kill you with just two words  
If it was forgivable  
I could torture blood traitors  
If it was forgivable  
I could just curse you where you stand  
You would be at my command  
If it was forgivable   
(But, it’s unforgivable)  
  
“I stab out  
With my wand so ready  
Even when I cry out  
Crucio, I know it isn’t me  
Am I really this way  
Or am I too under someone’s sway?  
  
“If it was forgivable  
I could kill you with just two words  
If it was forgivable  
I could torture blood traitors  
If it was forgivable  
I could just curse you where you stand  
You would be at my command  
If it was forgivable   
(But, it’s unforgivable)  
  
“If it was forgivable...  
If it was forgivable...  
If it was forgivable...  
If it was forgivable...  
But it’s unforgivable...  
And I’m unforgivable...”  
  
I swear to you, that was one of the first truly sad readings I’ve ever done. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve predicted some terrible things even before that, but this kid wasn’t inherently bad really. He was just preprogrammed by that damned father of his…  
  
I slapped the butterbeer that Ramone handed me down next to the boy, smiling encouragingly. The boy seemed to take this as a good sign and took a long draw of his bottle. “So, what can you tell me?”  
  
I sighed heavily. “If you take the mark that the Dark Lord offers to you Draco, you will live out almost exactly the fantasy that you have dreamed of since you were six. You will marry another pureblood, have a single son with her before your wife moves into a second bedroom to let you live the rest of your life sleeping with a succession of mistresses. You will survive the war between Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. You will be a person of significant political influence…”  
  
The boy nodded happily, taking up his drink and starting to leave.  
  
“… and you will never truly be happy with any of it. The taste of your victory will turn to ashes in your throat. Your father will remain in prison for life. Your Lord will die at the hands of Harry Potter. Your line will die out shortly after you. The Black family will die out completely with the deaths of your Aunt Bellatrix and Cousin Nymphadora. You will die ignominiously in your sleep by the hand of your own son.”  
  
The boy stood with his back to me, desperately wanting to walk out that door. I can’t blame him even now. “And what would you have me do, Demon? Abandon everything I am in the hopes that I might somehow be happy? I can’t be happy with Dumbledore’s way, Demon. It is worse then the Dark Lord’s.”  
  
“Dumbledore’s destiny is sealed Sugar pie. He is an irrelevance. His time is ended. He will die soon, without a doubt. The only question is how he will die… at your hand, at your indifference, or without your involvement. Trust me when I say that if you choose the first or second you doom yourself as surely as you doom countless others. The difference is that your torture will be slow and subtle. Do not choose that path, Draco. Prove to the world that Slytherin is not synonymous with evil.”  
  
“And if I do this? What is my fate then, Demon?”  
  
I shook my head. “I can’t be sure of that, Honey bunch. I can tell you one thing for sure of one thing Little dragon. If you refuse the mark and stand for the light, you will become such a hero that you will eclipse the Dark Lord…”  
  
“And Potter.”  
  
“No. Potter is destined to end the Dark Lord, Sugar cane. It can’t be denied.”  
  
The blond nodded thoughtfully. “Will I die?”  
  
I sighed. This was the bad one. “Uncertain… but if you do… then you will die free. If you accept the mark then even after the Dark Lord’s death, you will remain his slave.”  
  
“I don’t know that I can do this…”  
  
I smiled softly at that. “No one knows until they try, Sweet pea. But better to die a hero then to live to see yourself become the villain…”  
  
The boy nodded and left, flipping a pair of sickles on to the bar.  
  
I wouldn’t find out what happened to the boy until three years later. He lived, contrary to my wildest hopes. But what’s more, he lived well. He refused the mark and went to Potter, unable to trust Dumbledore. It had taken some convincing, but Potter had accepted Draco’s aid. Draco had even been instrumental in the discovery and destruction of the cup horcrux. I am very proud of him.  
  
~~  
  
Not entirely sure if I like the way I ended this, but I hope you all like it...  
  
Oh... and I am fully aware that Invisible wasn't written until later. Let's just say that, for the sake of argument that Clay Aiken sang that song on the WWN long before he ever brought it to the muggle world...  
  
Jasper


	3. Durin's Bane ~ The Balrog's Tale

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter or the song Dancing Queen. The first two belong to Joss Whedon. The third to John Tolkien. The fourth to Joanne Rowling. The last to ABBA. This ficlet and all those that follow and precede are responses to the Andy Hallett Memorial Challenge. Each fic will feature a different fandom and a different song (in addition to the Angel & Buffy fandoms) which will be featured in a disclaimer above the chapter. All of these tales will be told by Lorne in the first person...  
  
And now, back to the show.  
  
~~  
  
Back again, I see? Welcome back to Caritas. I’m glad to see you here. Now I suppose you’re probably getting tired of all these sweet and fairly innocent humans. No problem, Dumpling. Have I got a tale for you. See, mutants and wizards and vampires and the odd lesser demons are fun, but let me tell you about this time I had to cater to a greater demon who was having some major issues. Poor hellbeast didn’t know whether it was coming or going it was so despondent.  
  
It was around midnight at Caritas, a fairly busy hour for me considering my clientele. Think of a lunch rush and you’ll have some idea. The night had been pretty fun so far. None of the predictions were doozies and I was looking forward to a fairly calm night predictions-wise. That was when a figure appeared in the door that caused many of my patrons to shiver. Great leaping lycanthropes but I still have difficulty believing what I saw that night. A Balrog of Morgoth from the dimension that spawned those cute hobbit chaps. Balrogs are generally bad news.  
  
“Can I get you something, Honey?”  
  
The spawn of darkness just gave a huge sigh and sat down on a barstool. It’s a good thing Balrogs can shrink some when necessary or I’d have hated to see what this fella would’ve done just by entering my beloved bar. “I require some advice on a personal matter.”  
  
I had to say I was surprised. There weren’t many greater demons that deigned to ask the advice of their lessers, many of them sneering at us anagogic types. “I might just be able to help you out, Dumpling. Think you can carry a tune for us?”  
  
The Balrog was obviously suspicious. I guess its parents taught it to be suspicious. “Why?”  
  
I grinned placatingly. I couldn’t be sure if my anti-violence wards were up to handling something of this guy’s level. “If you can carry a tune, Sweetheart, you could sing for me. And if you can do that, I can give you a reading to help you figure out your problems.  
  
The demon narrowed its eyes suspiciously before it seemed to realise something. “An anagogic demon. You can read the future through song.”  
  
I smiled broadly at the rather intimidating hellspawn. “That’s right, Peaches. And all you gotta do is sing for me.”  
  
I’ll state it for you right now. It blows my mind that some of these demons are such skilled singers. Some, like that Balrog look they should have no right to sing that well. I also find it equally confounding to realise that this one is a soprano! Colour me shocked…  
  
“You can fence, ‘fore you fall, watching your death come to call  
See that beast, end your reign, it’s mighty Durin’s Bane  
  
Mountain night and it starts to snow  
Looking for another route to go  
The shortest route is best so, going to Kházad-dûm  
You hide from the orcish drums  
And now you watch the arrows fly  
Blades and magic flash as the orc-kin die  
Now the bridge is clear, it’s time to say goodbye  
But then the Balrog comes  
And bringing with it lots of orcish chums  
  
You’re facing Durin’s Bane, young or old you must be quite insane  
Durin’s Bane, feel your terror as it comes again  
You can fence, ‘fore you fall, watching your death come to call  
See that beast, end your reign, it’s mighty Durin’s Bane  
  
Sword and staff are now all aglow  
As you tell your friends to go  
Looking out for an opening, any one will do  
You knock it o’er the lip  
And then fall to his whip…  
  
You’re facing Durin’s Bane, young or old you must be quite insane  
Durin’s Bane, feel your terror as it comes again  
You can fence, ‘fore you fall, watching your death come to call  
See that beast, end your reign, he’s mighty Durin’s Bane”  
  
The poor dear. Jilted not once but twice by that great lolloping grey wizard Gandalf. I swear to you that if I ever get that hustler onto my stage I may just be pushed to test out my own anti-violence wards. Gandalf has caused more heartbreak in his centuries of life then a handful of succubi.  
  
I dropped a big mug of firewater down in front of the poor dear, smiling encouragingly. The being seemed to draw strength from that, a fact for which I am grateful. “So, what do you think?”  
  
I took a deep breath and let the Balrog hear it. “I’m sorry, Honey. I know you really want to get back with Gandalf, but it would just lead to tears and pain on your part. That grey-haired galoot is a two-timer of the worst sort. You’d really much better off looking for someone who loves you for you. Not everyone out there just wants to say they scored off of Durin’s Bane, you know…”  
  
The greater demon sighed sadly. “It’s easier said than done, Host. I have been on many planes of existence for many centuries and have yet to find someone who is willing to love me for what I am. Gandalf, Galadriel, Sauron, Saruman, Durin, Elbereth and so many others. They all wanted something. And, I’ve got to admit that I didn’t do my own reputation much good with that messy breakup I had with Durin. How was I to know I would accidentally end a civilisation?”  
  
“I know, Sweetcheeks. Durin was probably the worst of a bad lot… Still, it’s no reason to give in. Tell you what. I might have something for you.” I grinned broadly. Two birds with one stone with this one. I scribbled down an address down on paper. “Be at this location, a week from next Tuesday. You’ll meet a nice girl who has a very similar issue.”  
  
The demon rose reluctantly, it’s confidence well-shaken by one too many users in its life. “What does she look like?”  
  
“I couldn’t begin to guess, Sweetie. That’s all I can give you.”  
  
The demon nodded, calming down. It couldn’t cry, it didn’t have the glands, but I suspect if it could have that I might have been bawled on. “I really appreciate this, Host.”  
  
I shook my head. “It’s all part of the service Sweet Pepper.”  
  
The demon nodded again, looking a little more eager. I hoped I was doing the right thing. After all, if anyone could understand wanting someone who can ‘love me for me’, it was that metamorph cousin of Draco’s. I hear that the poor dear broke up with the werewolf because he wouldn’t stop brooding. The Balrog might be a touch frightening to look at, but I like to think that she of all people can look beneath appearance and see the inner value of the being inside.  
  
~~  
  
So... What do ya think? For the record, I deliberately left the Balrog's sex ambiguous. Fill it with whatever you prefer. Suffice it to say, the Balrog is not particular about the sex of its lovers, it just wants to be loved.  
  
Jasper


	4. Mow Down ~ Wile E. Coyote's Tale

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Looney Tunes, the Flash, Sonic the Hedgehog or the song Shut Down. The first two belong to Joss Whedon. The third to Warner Brothers. The fourth to DC Comics. The fifth to SEGA. The last to the Beach Boys. This ficlet and all those that follow and precede are responses to the Andy Hallett Memorial Challenge. Each fic will feature a different fandom and a different song (in addition to the Angel & Buffy fandoms) which will be featured in a disclaimer above the chapter. All of these tales will be told by Lorne in the first person...  
  
And now, on with the show.  
  
~~  
  
Hey now! I haven’t seen you guys for a while now. Yep, it’s me, Lorne. I’ll be your Host for the evening. What? Another story? Well, I suppose I can scrounge something up. Let’s see here… Hmmmmmm… Ah, yes! Of course. This was while I was acquainted with Angelfood Cakes and still operating out of Caritas…  
  
It was a particularly busy night that night. I had a full plate of demons hanging about and Miss Tara Maclay had just left after a heart-wrenching rendition of ‘Surfer Girl’. To this day I still wish I could have gotten to that crumb, Warren, before Willow had. I’d have shown him a pain or three…  
  
Anyway, it was just after Tara had left that a coyote walked in. It wasn’t your standard coyote, I’m sure you’ve figured out. This one was bipedal and probably one of the most intelligent beings I’ve ever been associated with, bar Fred.  
  
Suffice it to say, this coyote trotted up to my bar and sat down. “I am Wile E. Coyote… Super Genius.” He actually handed me a card that said so. I gotta tell ya, this guy had a very healthy ego. “I would like a glass of roadrunner blood.”  
  
I shrugged at him and spoke, apologetically. “Sorry Light Bulb, but we don’t stock it here. You’d have better luck in Nevada.” The coyote seemed extremely dejected. “Would care for some rabbit instead, Dear?”  
  
That seemed to put the sparkle back in my new customer’s eye. “That would be magnificent, thank you.” After a sip or two, Wile looked at me speculatively. “You wouldn’t happen to be one of those anagogic types, now would you?”  
  
I grinned widely at that. “You bet, Crumpet. Interested in a reading are you?”  
  
The coyote in question nodded eagerly. “You have no idea how much it cost me to get the ACME company to send me to another reality so that I could visit you. I’m just relieved that it worked for once. I’ve half a mind to sue the creeps for the number of times their various things have backfired on me…” With that said, Wile stood up and walked onto the stage, picking his song with great care.  
  
I’ve gotta say that while Wile E. Coyote may be a genius, his true vocation is singing. He could replace any one of the Three Tenors without effort. He’s that good…  
  
“Dinner time, dinner time  
‘Runner gonna mow you down  
  
It happened on a cliff by the boulder-slide  
Roadrunner’s on the road movin’ in a glide  
Gotta brand new set of runners and my knife and fork  
Gonna eat poultry for dinner ‘cause I’m tired of pork  
  
Dinner time, dinner time  
‘Runner gonna mow you down  
  
Roadrunner’s moving in at an even rate  
At the count of one we both accelerate  
My Acme-bought rocket is propelling me  
But that tasty little bird just lets loose ‘Beep Beep’  
  
God I’m so hungry, so I guess I had better move  
  
Moving down the road now I’ve got something to prove  
But that hypersonic turkey is just hitting his groove  
Gotta have care now, lest my rocket explode  
And that dinner on the run thinks it rules the road  
  
One last time round the highway’s bend  
I’m pretty darned certain that we’re nearing the end  
I thought I had him this time but he still eludes  
Want money back right now, from those Acme dudes  
  
Maybe next time, maybe next time, ‘Runner gonna mow you down  
Maybe next time, maybe next time, ‘Runner gonna mow you down  
Maybe next time, maybe next time, ‘Runner gonna mow you down  
Maybe next time, maybe next time, ‘Runner gonna mow you down”  
  
I winced at what I saw, even as I rejoiced at that wonderful tenor voice and that wonderful rendition of a ‘Beach Boys’ classic. It seems that Wile has developed a fixation on a particularly juicy-looking roadrunner. The problem at hand is that the overfed turkey in question has somehow managed to tap the Speed Force from the DCU. I kid you not. That poor coyote is screwed in that respect.  
  
Wile came down from the stage at that point, obviously looking to me for help in his quest for the choicest cut of roadrunner in his universe. I sighed heavily. “I’m sorry Sugar Pie, but the bird in question somehow managed to tap the Speed Force from another universe. I’m afraid that the ill-bred little thing has just been toying with you.”  
  
The coyote looked broken up by the news. I couldn’t let him down. Luckily, I had a solution. “Now don’t get down on yourself, Dumpling. It’ll probably take you a few years, but you might be able to acquire the ‘Super Sonic’ ability from the Sonic the Hedgehog ‘verse. If that sneaky bird can get outside help, so can you.”  
  
Wile grinned in a truly predatory fashion. “That’s sheer genius! Any advice for while I acquire the necessary funds?”  
  
I smirked and offered up takeout menus for KFC, Swiss Chalet, St. Hubert’s, Popeye’s and a dozen other restaurants that serve poultry as a main dish.  
  
The coyote looked to be salivating at the options. One or two of them even had inter-dimensional delivery service so that Wile could order whilst still back home. “Thank you for your assistance, Lorne. If you ever have need of my services, I can be reached at this address.” He tapped his card.  
  
‘Wile E. Coyote  
Super Genius  
3124 Crabapple Cave  
Mojave Desert  
Nevada’  
  
The coyote turned and left then, leaving me with a smile on my face. Wile was actually the brains behind getting me my new place in Cleveland. He was very grateful to me for my assistance. And I hear that he finally got his roadrunner dinner. I’m glad. The little fink always ran off without paying its bar tab…  
  
~~  
  
You might have guessed that I really despise the roadrunner. I've always felt sorrier for Wile E. Coyote then any other Looney Tunes villain. And so I decided to give him the win for once. I hope you liked it.  
  
Jasper


	5. Feelin' Spooky ~ Casper's Tale

I don’t own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Casper. They belong to Joss Whedon and Famous Studios respectively. I also don’t own the 59th Street Bridge Song. That belongs to Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. I also don’t own Harry Potter, the Incredible Hulk, the Muppets or Green Lantern. They belong to Joanne K. Rowling, Marvel Comics, Jim Henson and DC Comics respectively.  
  
**  
  
Back again, I see. Well, let’s see. I’ve told you about a couple of humans, a greater demon and even a sentient animal from another reality. But don’t worry, I’ve still got plenty more stories to tell.  
  
Let’s see now. Oh yes. This happened even before Draco’s little debut. It was getting close to midnight and I had a rare treat. Bruce Banner was in my bar, pouring his heart into a particularly despondent version of It’s Not Easy Being Green. You may wonder why I would find this a treat. Firstly, Brucie has one heck of a voice. And secondly, it’s nice to know someone else has an idea of how tough it is to be green. So far it’s just Bruce, Kermit and me. Hal Jordan’s got it easy, he does…  
  
Anyway, Bruce comes up to me and asks me to tell him what I see. Poor Brucie just didn’t want to hear what I had to say… Anger management. Luckily for Caritas, dear Mr. Banner was more depressed than angry and so he just left me with my tip and left the building. I felt bad for him, I really did, but what could I do? The truth is what it is. The only way to control the Hulk was to control his temper.  
  
It was while I was cleaning up the glasses used in Banner’s latest binge to try and put the Hulk from his mind that I noticed a ghost gliding through my door. The little lad looked about twelve and looked to be a sad type of ghost, rather then the violent, angry specters that were so prevalent in the spiritual world.  
  
“Hey marshmallow, what can I get for you?”  
  
The ghost just looked at me like I was crazy. Heck, I know that anything a ghost consumes goes right through them, but I’ve noticed that the act of eating or drinking tends to allow them to recapture some semblance of their humanity.  
  
“Well?”  
  
The kid finally seemed to decide I was serious and nodded. “A coke, please. It’s been a long time.”  
  
I smiled gently at the lad and opened him a new bottle. “Here you go, sweetie. First one’s on the house. What’s your name?”  
  
The kid smiled shyly, poor fella didn’t have many people who were friendly to him, and spoke in that soft voice of his. “Casper… Casper McFadden.”  
  
I nodded solemnly. “Nice to meet you, hon. Care to give us a song?” Casper looked at me in confusion and I grinned right back. “I might be able to set you on a new path if you can sing for me, kiddo. I can tell a lot about a person when they do that…”  
  
The kid was skeptical, but had apparently decided that to try was better then nothing.  
  
“One night, my life is ended.  
I caught a bug that couldn’t be mended.  
So now I’m here, a friendly ghost.  
Looking for pals and feelin’ spooky.  
  
Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...Feelin’ spooky.  
  
Hello Wendy,  
You goodly witch  
You got some friends so you are rich.  
Have you got some time for me?  
‘Cause I still am,  
Feelin’ spooky.  
  
I’ve got unfinished business,  
Before I make the cross.  
But ask me what it is and I’m at a loss.  
So it seems I’m stuck here with all of the dross.  
Unlife, I hate you,  
All is spooky…”  
  
It always pains me to see someone so young that seems so lost. Well, young was perhaps the wrong term for him. Casper had been a ghost for a fair few decades, after all. Still, Casper had the personality and emotions of the twelve-year-old child that so longed for friendship.  
  
He had tried so hard Chris Carson and Wendy were examples of the various kids that Casper had befriended over his time as a ghost, but inevitably they would all move on with their lives and out of his. Casper had even shared a brief romance with Kat Harvey, which had ended rather painfully since Kat was human and preferred boys that were corporeal. Not to mention the fact that she aged while he didn’t.  
  
And so I offered the lad an encouraging smile and patted his back as best I could, trying to be encouraging. “I don’t have any easy answers for you, Casper. Friends are always going to be fleeting for you, because humanity is so very fickle. Still, if you keep coming to the aid of young humans who need friends like you have been, you might yet find one that will stick by you.”  
  
Casper frowned at me. I wasn’t really telling him anything he hadn’t already concluded for himself. “Anyone in particular you think would need a friend right now?”  
  
I smiled at the lad. Casper was such a giving soul it was enough to break my heart and give me a real pain in the butt. Ah well. I’m just glad that I had a name for him to work with. “There’s a kid named Harry Potter. He lives in Surrey, England. He’s ten and he could really use a friend right now. You stick by his side and he might even introduce you to a girl ghost someday.”  
  
It was at that moment that I learned a ghost can blush. “Thank you, sir.”  
  
“It’s Lorne, dumpling. The address is Number Four, Privet Drive. Don’t forget it now.”  
  
“I won’t, Lorne. Thanks a bunch.”  
  
Ah, two birds with one stone. That Potter kid was another who had really needed a friend. Casper did a lot for Harry over the years, helped him gain the confidence to do a lot of things he needed to do gain victory over Voldemort and also gave him more tenacity and decisiveness in his friendships and relationships over the years.  
  
Harry eventually outgrew his friendship with Casper, but he stuck around long enough to introduce the kid to Moaning Myrtle. I hear that she and Casper have really hit it off. Casper even uses Hogwarts as a source of new friendships. I like to think that he’ll be happy for decades to come there. I certainly wish him well.  
  
~~  
  
Happy Halloween  
  
Jasper


End file.
